[IMG]http://i.imgur.com/4UOldeh.png?1[/IMG] Raleigh watched closely as the young vampiress prowled towards him. The way she moved was entrancing, almost hypnotic. His eyes wandered to her lips, plush and delicate as her fang sank deeper and deeper into their soft flesh. He looked into her eyes, pools of blue ambrosia. They held him as she drew close and looped and fastened her scarf around his bare neck. It was soft and smelt of flowers, lilacs. They were his favourite. “Thank you,” he responded, watching as Siya skulked away, devilry in the sway of her feminine hips. His stare lingered as she shifted into the shadows. Laughter sobered Raleigh from the trance. He turned to see Henry kindly toss him some clothes. He knew the siren’s name, which he’d overheard during the Ardgroom meeting, from the Company, wasn’t he second-in-command at the Boston Branch? Raleigh caught the clothes in his arms and smiled to his saviour. “Cheers, mate. I owe you one.” As the others went off to follow Atticus, Raleigh quickly dressed. Henry was right; the shirt did go with the scarf. He readjusted it over the top, getting a fresh waft of flowers, reminding him of Siya. He walked after the group. He could only pray Mr. Hoyle’s sister wouldn’t mind his bare feet. They slapped against the cold stone of the cave, echoing off the walls. The walk was short and they soon turned the corner into the antechamber. He was on guard in credence to Atticus’ advice. But little could prepare him for the scene before them. Raleigh’s spirit bristled in the presence of the Nixies. There was something deeply sinister about them, even before he noticed the knife at the elderly shewolf’s throat. The other was certainly weaving magic against the poor woman. Mr. Hoyle’s wavering voice added a heart-wrenching pitch to the deathly melody. Raleigh edged forward. The water spirit’s voice was sickening to Raleigh’s ears, stirring up the bile in the pit of his stomach. He sprung without thought, pure instinct taking hold. He transformed—taking care this time to ward his clothes first—mid-air in a regal bound, lowering his antlered head towards the Nixie with the knife. The blade slid as he inched closer.